


The Descent

by geekyjez



Series: Isii Lavellan [48]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort, Drabble, F/M, Fear, The Deep Roads, The Descent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4557018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isii is forced to face one of her worst fears as the Inquisition tasks her with going into the Deep Roads. As they make their descent, she tries to calm her panic by reaching for something familiar; something that makes her feel safe.</p><p>Post-Relationship Solavellan drabble. (Relatively spoiler free.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A requested drabble (though I admittedly tweaked the request a bit). This mimics the opening scene of The Descent and shares some dialogue straight from the game, but otherwise is free of Descent spoilers.

“So, the Deep Roads,” Bull said, his voice rumbling in a low echo off the damp cavern walls. “You think there’ll be tight spaces? Long hallways with low ceilings?”

“Probably,” Isii muttered distractedly, trying to quell the churning in her gut. “Why?”

“Just hoping my horns fit.” She chuckled. It was a half-hearted sound; the shaky breath of someone whose nerves were worn thin. “Doesn’t seem like our usual line of work, does it? Darkspawn and all?”

“We’ve fought them before…”

“Yeah, but that was different, wasn’t it?” he asked flatly. “Rooting around with Varric’s old flame, looking for intel on red lyrium. It had a fairly direct impact on figuring out what this magister is up to. This, on the other hand…” He scratched at his head idly, his face pulled into a grimace. “Just not our normal kinda gig. Unless you’re telling me that asshole is causing earthquakes now.”

Isii eyed him before fixing her gaze on the path ahead. “Reports from Orzammar say that several lyrium mines were damaged. The Inquisition needs lyrium just as desperately as the dwarves need to sell it to keep their economy going. If we lose lyrium, it would cripple us. Call it a little resource assurance.”

“Not to mention the threat of darkspawn making their way to the surface,” Solas added quietly, breaking his silence. Isii shot him a look. He’d only said a handful of words since agreeing to accompany her on this mission.

She wondered if she’d ever get to the point where being around him didn’t feel strange.

“Right,” she said flatly, her stomach churning. “Wouldn’t want to forget that.”

The group fell quiet as the narrow cavern gave way to a larger opening, layers of rock peeling away into a deep chasm. Harding spotted them, her face brightening into a smile. Even through the scout’s greetings and status report, Isii couldn’t keep herself from staring at the wooden platform that dangled beyond the cliffside. There was little more than a simple pulley and a long winding rope keeping it from plummeting downward into the darkness below. The thought of it made her mouth run dry. The idea of falling didn’t frighten her nearly as much as the idea of being trapped down there. The heart of the world was the seat of the Blight, the ichor of corruption that made her skin crawl. A single cut, a bite, a splatter of blood upon the lips - that’s all it would take to infect her. It would seal her fate. If tainted, she could only hope to have a brief death, a few days of agony before the end. Otherwise, she would linger, wither away slowly until she turned into a ghoul that was barely even an elf anymore…

She shuddered, blinking as she shook her head, trying to redirect her focus to Harding.

“Any news on darkspawn activity?”

“Not this high up, thankfully,” the dwarf answered with a grin. “I sharpened my arrows just in case… but they never showed.” She shrugged, an impish curl to her lip. “I’m ok with that.”

Isii nearly jumped as one of the dwarves working on the platform let out a sharp whistle. Harding gave the man a nod as he and his partner withdrew. “The lift’s ready for you,” she said.

“Right,” Isii muttered, trying to steel herself. Her companions approached without hesitation and she followed, biting the inside of her lip to keep herself from grimacing. Her foot found the edge of the platform, wood and rope both letting out unsettling creaks and groans as she shifted her weight onto it, unsteady as it swayed off-balance. Her chest felt tight, her heart pounding hard against her ribs as she turned, glancing down into the depths below. There was nothing but an unending blackness that made her stomach feel hollow. The platform continued to sway, bucking slightly at the addition of its passengers.

“Try not to shift around,” Harding advised, “and keep back from the edge. It’s a _looooong_ way down,” she added with a nervous laugh.

Isii felt sick.

She glanced down once more, cursing under her breath. “Scared of heights, boss?” Bull asked.

“Not normally.” The question should have made her laugh, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Had he not seen her scramble up the side of steep cliffs, insistent that it was faster than going around to the trodden path? He’d given her a boost more than once, let her stand up on his shoulders as she dragged her body up to heights where a fall would certainly break some bones. She’d never hesitated then.

“It’s not the fall but further, deeper, down into darkness, black like bile, a sickness in the skin,” Cole murmured. “You’ve heard that they eat you and you don’t know which is worse - that they start or they don’t finish…”

“That’s really not helping,” she snapped. Her lungs felt tight. When did they grow so tight?

Rope strained and suddenly the wood planks beneath them jerked downward. Isii gasped, startled, reaching out for something to steady herself. The warmth of his hand was there and so she took it without thought, gripping tightly. Solas stiffened, surprised by the sudden contact. She could feel his eyes on her, searching her face, but she stared straight ahead, her brow furrowed. Meeting his gaze would be admitting to this moment of weakness and she needed not to be weak. She needed not to be frightened. Normally she could mask it, hide it under a laugh or a snarl but the terror was too real. It left her feeling shaken. Weeks ago, she would have turned to him for reassurance without hesitation.

But that was before he pushed her away. That was before they stopped talking. That was before words became thick and awkward and laced with so many things they wouldn’t say to one another. He wasn’t her support anymore and it was only after it was gone that she realized how much she’d depended on it.

In the end, he said nothing. Solas merely tightened his grip on her hand and she took a deep breath, trying to still the torrent raging within her as the shadows swallowed them whole.


	2. Chapter 2

He couldn’t recall the last time she had touched him. 

No, he corrected as her fingers tightened around his own, his eyes searching her face. That wasn’t entirely true. Such details were burned into Solas’s consciousness no matter how desperately he wished to distance himself from them. The warmth of Isii’s skin was a rarity now. Even simple gestures, things once done in passing and without thought were skirted. Avoided. Something as commonplace as a hand offered to help the other up was presented with hesitation, if given at all, and usually not taken. 

This was good, he told himself, despite the near-constant pit in his stomach whenever she was in his presence. This was progress. He wanted - no - needed her to push him away. He needed her to let go of the ill-considered infatuation that he had cultivated within her. He had fed it, tended to it, allowed it to flourish and now he had to let the roots wither away and die. It was as it had to be. 

Her hand was trembling ever so slightly around his own. He could see the sharp crease of her brow as she avoided his gaze; the way she repeatedly wet her lips to hide the fact that they were twitching, quivering, half-twisted between a scowl and a grimace. He knew she was frightened. He’d seen what terror looked like on those features when it was laid bare and untamed, so seeing its quieter counterpart was not unfamiliar to him. He considered pulling his hand away. It was probably what he should do, he reasoned. She was seeking comfort in the very last place she should.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

He shifted his hand in her grip, brushed his fingers with her own until they laced together, a movement both self-conscious and instinctual. She took a deep breath, shaking softly as she exhaled. She kept her eyes facing forward and he could see in the fading light that they had grown glassy and strained. He tightened his grip and she seemed to nod, a small gesture to herself as he felt her squeeze harder. 

She didn’t say a word to him as they descended, still avoiding his gaze as he watched her recede within herself. By the time she released him, stepping briskly off the platform and onto the path ahead, there was no sign of trepidation on her features. He knew it was a facade, a face of strength and authority she put forth whenever she had to slip into the role of Inquisitor. 

He wasn’t the only one capable of hiding behind a convincing mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this a while back - finally getting around to adding it here as I post my backlog from tumblr.


End file.
